


are we good?

by CallingVersatile



Series: kisses 'verse [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, How Do I Tag, Kissing, feelings talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 23:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallingVersatile/pseuds/CallingVersatile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a week since Marinette's first kiss with Alya, things have been just a little bit awkward between her and her best friend. Well, no more. She's determined to talk to her, and set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	are we good?

**Author's Note:**

> here it is folks: you asked for it, i said no, then did it anyways- the sequel to kisses on the necks of best friends. 
> 
> this fic was truly a journey of self discovery, where i learned things like "how much can i write in one sitting" and "how annoying is it to code html in the dark." simply marvelous. 
> 
> Anyways, hope y'all enjoy.

It had been almost a week since Marinette’s sleepover with Alya. Since her first, second, and third kiss, after which she stopped counting. 

_Not the point_ , she thought, tapping a pen methodically against her desk. Her notebook lay open, a vague pretense at working, but Marinette’s mind was a mile away. 

Things hadn’t been _awkward,_ exactly, between the two girls. She still talked to Alya daily, listening patiently as her friend filled her in on the latest Ladyblog news. But there was a difference in how they interacted, now. Marinette had realized what it was on Monday when she reached out to get Alya’s attention by grabbing her shoulder- then second guessed herself, and drew the hand back. That sort of thing just didn’t happen with her best friend. At least, it had not before she’d been very thoroughly kissed by said best friend, and _maybe_ began to see her in a different light. 

There had been one major exception to the new ‘no touching’ rule that week. On Wednesday, Chloe had been on the warpath, and Marinette had been unfortunate enough to draw her ire. But as the girl verbally tore into her for “daring to bump into the desk of someone as important as myself,” something unexpected had happened. Alya reached over under the table and grabbed her hand in one smooth motion. Not a single person noticed, but the simple act had grounded Marinette wonderfully against Chloe’s rant. 

Neither of them had spoken about it, of course. And there had been no contact since then, something completely unheard of in their friendship.

Marinette sighed. The pen tapped away. 

She should talk to her. This was not a new sentiment; Marinette had resolved to talk to Alya about it every day prior to this. It was Friday now, one final chance before she’d have to actually meet up with her friend outside of school to have a conversation about their feelings. It would be unbearably awkward, she could just feel it. 

It had to be today. 

As for what she would say… She’d wing it. Going about this with the Adrien Agreste approach--making a script, planning her conversation, freaking out over every little thing--just didn’t feel right here. 

Marinette glanced at the clock. 4:27. The class was growing restless around her, and Mlle. Mendeleiev had already accepted that she’d lost them. She’d have to ask soon if she didn’t want to lose her friend in the rush to get home. 

“Hey, can you wait up for me after school?” 

Marinette started, and turned to the voice that had shaken her out of her thoughts. She pouted. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. 

“You’ll have to be faster than that,” Alya responded with a smile, quick as ever. 

Marinette just had time to pack her bags before the bells rung. Students streamed from the school, leaving a near empty classroom. Only herself, Mlle. Mendeleiev, and Alya remained. The latter was slowly packing up her school supplies, obviously stalling for time. 

“Alya?” 

“Coming, one sec.” 

Their teacher cleared her throat impatiently and Alya picked up the pace. Finally, they left the classroom. The hall was mostly clear of students by now. 

“So… how was your day?” Marinette asked. 

“Alright,” came the reply. 

Further attempts at conversation were met with more one-word answers. Eventually, Marinette gave up. 

They took a side door out into the courtyard, where a handful of students milled about, talking in small groups. Several of the benches were free, however. As soon as they reached one, Alya dumped her bag and turned to face Marinette. 

“Are we good?” Alya asked. She had on her reporter face, the kind that said ‘I’ll get an answer if it’s the last thing I do,’ but there was a degree of hesitancy in her voice that Marinette rarely heard. 

There was no use pretending she didn’t know what Alya was talking about. Marinette let out a sigh. 

“I want to be,” she said. “But things have been a little…” 

“Awkward,” Alya finished. Marinette nodded. For the first time, she really felt as though she was walking on eggshells. This… thing, whatever it was, had driven a small wedge of awkwardness between them. If she wanted to prevent it from growing bigger, Marinette would have to choose her words carefully. 

Now it was Alya’s turn to sigh. 

“I fucked things up, didn’t I?” 

“No!” Marinette said loudly. “I mean, no, you didn’t. I know things have been a bit weird but that wasn’t the problem.” 

“Yes I did! I should never have- I shouldn’t have kissed you, that was dumb-”

“No! I asked you to do that, I promise you didn’t mess things up.” 

Alya didn’t look convinced. “Then what was the problem?” 

The problem wasn’t that she had kissed Alya. The problem was that she had kissed Alya and liked it, kissed Alya and thought about it the next night, and the night after that. The problem was that she wanted to kiss Alya again, and hold her hand, and get dressed up and go out and--

“I think I have a crush on you,” Marinette blurted out. Then froze. Why, _why_ in God’s name did she say that? 

“You--what? No, wait, since when? That’s- that’s ridiculous.” 

Marinette’s heart fell. 

“Ridiculous?” she asked, dismayed. Alya’s eyes widened. 

“Nononono, not in a bad way! It’s ridiculous because--well, because I’ve kind of been in love with you for like a year.” 

Oh. 

Hearing that did funny things to Marinette’s heart. Alya didn’t think her crush was weird. She liked her back- loved her, even. Scooting over to hug Alya fiercely felt right, like everything in the world was back in place. 

Kissing her, Marinette decided, felt pretty right too. 

Alya blushed when she broke off the kiss, a subtle darkening of her cheeks that Marinette immediately decides is the most wonderful thing ever. 

“Okay, not that I ever want to stop you from kissing me, but um, what exactly does this mean? For… us?” 

Ignoring the thrill the first part of Alya’s sentence sent through her, Marinette carefully considered her answer. Once more, she was unsure. In speaking her words earlier, she had become sure of their truth- she did have a crush on Alya. It was out of the blue, and maybe a little bit uncertain, but she was hooked. 

“‘Cause I mean, I know how you feel about… Adrien, and I don’t want to… I don’t know.” 

That pretty much hit the nail on the head. Marinette didn’t know either. 

“Ugh, I like him, but I really like you too! Why do I have to choose?” 

Alya blinked at her. 

“You… don’t?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you don’t have to choose. You can like two people at once, girl.” 

“I know,” Marinette said, chewing her lip. “But I mean like… dating.” 

Alya looked at her like she was a little slow. 

“You can date more than one person, you know.” 

Marinette stared. 

“Wouldn’t that be, like… cheating?” she asked, feeling like she was pointing out the obvious. 

“Not if everyone’s okay with it,” Alya said. “Think about it like this- do you think you could love two different people?” 

Well, obviously. That was the entire problem at hand. But still… it couldn’t be that easy, right? She voiced her doubts.

“It really is,” said Alya, amused. “It’s called a polyamorous relationship. One of my cousins has a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and they’re all happy as can be.” 

“So… you’d be okay with me liking Adrien?” 

“Love isn’t a finite resource,” her friend said. “As long as you… well, uh, that is to say. Yes. I’d be okay with that.” 

It was like a weight had been lifted from Marinette’s shoulders. The tension from a week of subtle worrying she hadn’t noticed drained away, and left her heart feeling fresh and light. 

“In that case,” Marinette said with a beaming smile, “would you care to go out sometime? Dinner and a movie?” 

Alya tried to hide her face, but Marinette could see that she was blushing anyways. 

“Of course I will, you--you big dork.” 

Marinette just laughed and hugged her closer. 

“I love how you solve all my problems, Alya,” Marinette said with a happy sigh, leaning her head against the other girl’s shoulders. 

“I am pretty fantastic,” Alya agreed amicably. 

The girls fell into a comfortable silence, soaking up both each other’s company and the afternoon sun. Eventually, Marinette broke the silence. 

“Do you wanna be… you know, public about it?” she asked. 

“Absolutely. Do you?” 

“Mhm.” 

It would be a lie to say that Marinette wasn’t a little worried. She loved Paris, but not everyone in it was as open-minded as she would like. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” Alya said, as if reading her mind. “If anyone fucks with us, I’ll break their knees.” 

“You truly do know the way to a woman’s heart,” Marinette said with a snicker. 

Alya checked her phone. “Jeez, it’s late. Everyone else has gone home and we’re at school, what’s wrong with us?” 

Marinette got up and stretched, relishing in the clicks and pops of her spine as she stretched her arms over her head. Alya retrieved her bag from the ground and dusted it off. 

The two girls walk out of the Collège Françoise Dupont hand in hand. They walk together for the few blocks they can, and when they reach the bakery, Alya pulls her in for a kiss that makes her toes tingle. 

Her cheeks are still burning as she bustles through the bakery. She’s halfway up the stairs when she hears her mother call out. 

“Did you have a good day, sweetie?” 

She pauses. Really, there’s only one way to answer. 

“It was pretty miraculous.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! As always, if you liked it (or really felt anything strongly about it), please let me know with a comment. they are much appreciated. 
> 
> have a good night.


End file.
